


Chestnuts

by kashiichan



Series: Ineffable Holidays [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crowley Loves Humanity (Good Omens), Developing Friendship, Food-Lover Crowley (Good Omens), Gen, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:27:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21730810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kashiichan/pseuds/kashiichan
Summary: Humans figure out how to roast chestnuts. Crowley helps Aziraphale discover food.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Holidays [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1563442
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6
Collections: Aspec-friendly Good Omens





	Chestnuts

Crowley makes himself scarce before the Flood really kicks off, leaving Aziraphale behind to watch over the Ark and the doomed populace[1]. His demonic presence turned out to be unnecessary—the locals had already started ridiculing Noah and his odd boat by the time Crowley arrived, so there hadn't really been much left for him to do—but Head Office only ever cares about results, and these are going to look [great](http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/great) in a report.

Time passes. Crowley dutifully completes all of his assignments, but also spends countless days learning as much as he can about humans. He visits their settlements, plays with their children, drinks their beer, and marvels at their capriciousness. How are they smart and kind in one moment, then ignorant and nasty in the next? It's _fascinating_.

As the Bronze Age kicks off and humans take their first tottering steps towards proper writing, Crowley runs into Aziraphale again in Valkyran[2]. The light from the setting sun gilds the angel's pale curls with gold; it's beautiful, but also uncomfortably reminiscent of a halo.

"Hello Aziraphale," the demon says cheerfully. This particular angel is already his favourite; Aziraphale's just so very polite. He's never even threatened to smite him, and that's basically what angels _do_.

"Shush," Aziraphale says absently. He seems totally absorbed in watching one of the humans repair a net; the man is racing against the fading light, but he's nearly finished. "Gitingev only just got her baby to sleep."

"Hello Aziraphale," Crowley says again, but quieter.

"Oh, hello Crawley," Aziraphale blinks, and Crowley frowns. He hasn't heard anyone call him that in ages; he'd almost forgotten how much he dislikes it. "I hope you're not here to harm the Lygoraveltlat."

"I was visiting the mammoths[3]," Crowley says honestly. "This was just the closest settlement. You?"

"Passing through," Aziraphale says vaguely.

"Waiting for an assignment," Crowley translates. He holds out the small bowl he's carrying; he figures food is a good enough peace offering. "Me too. Want one?"

"No thank you," Aziraphale says politely, watching the steam rise from it. "I don't need to eat."

"Neither do I," Crowley shrugs, retracting his arm, "but chestnuts are pretty good." He takes one before tucking the bowl against his side, pinning it there with his inner elbow so he has both hands free. The bowl, carved from whale bone, is simple but skillfully made; Crowley'd had to promise to return it before he left.

"What is a 'chestnut'?" Aziraphale asks curiously.

"They're a kind of fruit," Crowley explains, carefully separating the split shell and inner skin from the pale nut underneath. "Common elsewhere, but pretty rare this far north. Gyronav said they traded for them."

"I'm surprised they offered you some, then."

"The Lygoraveltlat are damn hospitable," Crowley says approvingly. "Even strangers get fed. I'm not a fan of kopalkhen[4], but chestnuts are delicious."

"In what way?" Aziraphale asks.

Crowley has just popped the nut into his mouth, so he thinks about this for a while as he chews. "It's a lot like a yam," he says at last.

"I'm afraid I'm not familiar," Aziraphale says apologetically.

"A... sort of a subtle mealiness," Crowley tries.

Aziraphale looks at him blankly.

"Look, flavour is complicated," Crowley huffs. "It's good though. Kind of sweet? You should just try one."

"Begone, tempter," Aziraphale says, but his heart's clearly not in it.

"They're even better when roasted," Crowley assures him. "Totally worth the explosions."

"The _what_?"

"Internal pressure," Crowley says dismissively, shrugging one shoulder. "It's fine; they figured it out[5]."

The angel moves closer so he can peer into the bowl. "These look familiar," he says suspiciously. "Were they in the Garden?"

"Technically everything was, if you follow it back far enough," Crowley points out.

Aziraphale is not impressed. "Did you steal these?"

"I successfully explained physics to an eight year old _and_ a five year-old[6]," Crowley says, offended. "I definitely earned them."

"I meant from Eden."

"Oh, sure," Crowley says, rolling his eyes as he picks out another chestnut. "I just loaded up my pockets and waltzed out the Gates."

"You fiend," the angel frowns, completely missing the sarcasm.

"Snakes don't have pockets, Aziraphale," Crowley sighs, tucking the bowl against his side again. "Relax."

Aziraphale watches the demon's long, dexterous fingers manipulate the fruit and feels a pang of... something. He doesn't have words for the emotion, but it feels dangerous.

"Are you sure you don't want one?" Crowley asks, misinterpreting the angel's gaze.

"I shouldn't," Aziraphale frowns.

"That's not a no," Crowley hums. "What if I promise not to tell anyone?"

"I'm not sure I can trust the promise of a demon," Aziraphale says carefully.

"Oh, definitely not," Crowley agrees. "Mine's pretty good though; I think lying's too much effort."

"Oh?"

"Too many things to remember," Crowley says, shrugging one shoulder. "Honesty is easier. Here, take this one."

Aziraphale eyes the demon's outstretched hand with trepidation.

"It's not poisoned," Crowley says gently. "Go on; I've peeled it for you."

Aziraphale takes the piece of fruit from the demon's palm, careful not to touch his skin. The chestnut is still hot and smells wonderful, but he has no idea whether he's actually allowed to eat it.

Crowley watches him stare at it for a while. "Any time," he prompts.

"I," Aziraphale begins, then cuts himself off. This demon seems friendly enough, but maybe it's a form of attack? Though he did just eat one of these 'chestnuts' himself; does that mean it's safe? They're from the same angelic stock, after all—but maybe Falling changes your biology?

"I just thought you'd like it," Crowley says suddenly, as if he's only just remembered that they're supposed to be enemies. "If you don't want it, that's fine. Give it back."

Strangely enough, the verbal retreat is what reassures Aziraphale. "I do want it," he admits.

"Then eat it," Crowley says firmly. "Wait. Have you not eaten anything before?"

"No, actually."

"How?" Crowley says disbelievingly. It's almost full dark now, and his slitted pupils are huge.

"I don't want to hear it," Aziraphale mutters, looking away. "I'm an angel; I shouldn't even be _thinking_ about eating."

"Were you explicitly banned from it?" Crowley asks curiously.

"No," Aziraphale admits.

"Then I'm not seeing the problem," Crowley frowns.

Aziraphale examines the nut resting innocently on his palm. It's a pale yellow colour, with grooves of variable sizes and depths on its surface. Shouldn't it have gone cold by now? Is that suspicious?

"You put it in your mouth," Crowley says helpfully.

"Yes, I do know how eating works," Aziraphale huffs.

"Just saying." Crowley shrugs and goes back to peeling chestnuts, as if he doesn't care anymore.

Aziraphale stares at the fruit on his palm and frets. Is this what temptation feels like? Is he being tempted by this demon?

"I'm done, so I'm gonna go return this bowl," Crowley says at last. He sounds bored. "Maybe when I get back you could let me know whether you're actually going to eat it or not."

"I..."

"Live a little, angel," Crowley advises, and grins at him. "Life's too short."

"For whom?" Aziraphale asks, but Crowley has already sauntered off.

(He does eat it, in the end. It's delicious.)

**********

Clicking on the arrows below will bring you back to the related footnote within the text:

> [1] Crowley had expected some righteous indignation about questioning the Divine Plan, or at least some angelic posturing; he hadn't meant to make Aziraphale _sad_. [↩]
> 
> [2] For beings of angelic stock, time is somewhat relative. The land mass in question was technically unnamed at that point, but someone would eventually call it Chukotka. [↩]
> 
> [3] Umqiḷir, an island in the Arctic Ocean, may have been the last place on earth where woolly mammoths survived (until 2500–2000 B.C.). Safely isolated from the mainland for thousands of years, as many as 500–1000 mammoths lived on the island at a time. [↩]
> 
> [4] Kopalkhen is made of walrus, seal or deer meat that has been buried and fermented under pressure. [↩]
> 
> [5] Crowley has seen humans do a lot of things with wild chestnuts over the last couple of centuries; they've tried peeling and eating them raw (very bad), boiling them (okay), drying them (better), and grinding them into flour (very good). Roasting has not been successful and most places gave up on it pretty quickly, but there's a particularly bright kid here who was determined to figure out _why_ chestnuts explode. Crowley is oddly proud of her. [↩]
> 
> [6] Crowley invented 'ELI5' long before Reddit—or even the internet—existed, and is secretly still a bit upset about not getting credit for it. [↩]

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by drawlight's [Advent Project](https://drawlight.tumblr.com/post/189391982184/drawlight-drawlight-aziraphale-crowley-for).
> 
> #IneffableHolidays / 31 Days of Ineffables


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